


Reflect what you are

by Vimes



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Ableism, F/M, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28937823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vimes/pseuds/Vimes
Summary: It’s easier sometimes to accept cruelty against ourselves than it is to stand by and watch when someone else get hurt. When Abed gets to know an autistic girl in his class, he decides to put up a fight against the casual ableism at Greendale and make sure you won’t have to go through what he’s gone through.There may be other reasons why he feels so strongly about it, but as long as no one messes with you while he’s around, nothing else matters.
Relationships: Abed Nadir/Reader, Abed Nadir/you
Kudos: 17





	Reflect what you are

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: ableism, threats of violence. If I’ve missed anything, let me know. This fic hasn’t been BETA’d.  
> As a disclaimer, I’ll say upfront that the reader insert’s experience with and response to autism is based on my own. It’s always impossible to write a reader insert neutrally enough to be projected onto by everyone and I think that’s especially true when portraying a disability that is at once so specific and so varied.

Abed could remember the very first moment he’d realised it. He’d sat a few rows behind you in class like he always did - it was too difficult to focus if he knew that you could see him - and he’d noticed something about you, something so small he only thought of it at first as an excuse to speak to you. After the lecture, when you were preparing to leave, he’d tapped you on the shoulder and waved you closer so he could whisper in your ear.

“Your t-shirt is on inside out.”

You’d leaned out and smiled. “Yes, I’m aware. Thank you.”

“It’s intentional?”

“Yeah. Seams, you know.”

Abed did know. No wonder he couldn’t get you out of his mind - the two of you were the same. He was too surprised to tell you so then and there, and he worried for a long time afterwards that he’d come across as judgemental.

Of course, you weren’t really the same. If you were, he wouldn’t have been so uncharacteristically nervous when he tried to befriend you because he would’ve already known what to do and say.

But he did find he could read you easily, could tell your mood almost at a glance and see past what he now recognised as masking - it was ridiculous that anyone could miss the pain in your voice just because you forced a smile or mistake your sarcasm for sincerity (and vice versa). Abed had given up on trying to pass for allistic a long time ago, both because it seemed impossible and because he rejected the idea that he had to pretend to be something he wasn’t. It looked like you managed it though, which must mean you’d faced the same problem he had and seen something he hadn’t. Just another reason you were so fascinating.

Besides some small talk now and then, Abed hung back for a long time. It was easy to make plans, to decide that today he’d finally strike up a real conversation or ask to debate the topics from class together somewhere quiet over a cup of cocoa, but somehow or other he always thought better of it when it came to the point. This dragged out until you were forced to work together on a group project.

Abed arrived at the library early that day to secure you a good place to work and make sure he had his notes and his wits gathered. Of course, the first thing he saw when he entered was you, sitting at a table in the corner and waving to him. He tried to remember everything Jeff had ever said about impressing a woman and when he couldn’t, he silently cursed himself for always having tuned that nonsense out. He could always slip into another character, but how well would that work on someone who acted so naturally all the time?

Still, you were smiling and pulling out a seat for him. Lacking any other option, Abed decided to trust in himself and he walked over with forced calm to sit beside you. As always, you smelled lovely and his head seemed to fill with pink cotton wool.

“It’s a shame Steve didn’t decide to come early to get us a spot,” you said by way of a greeting, “else we could’ve gotten started like twenty minutes early.”

“Yeah, that is a shame,” lied Abed.“I’m usually on time, but I’m so used to doing everything in group projects myself...”

You nodded. “Well, don’t worry. You won’t have to carry me, I promise.”

Abed cleared his throat and glanced around, searching for anything that could keep the conversation going. And there, beside your notebook and pencil, lay his chance to prove himself.

“Is that a fidget cube?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

“Yeah, it’s new!” You picked it up, clicked one of the buttons a few times and then held it out to him. “Want to try it out?”

If this had been a movie, Abed knew it would have cut to a close up as his almost trembling fingers grazed your palm. Until this second, he’d only had a theoretical (and sceptical) understanding of the significance of a moment like this, but now he sat dumbstruck with the toy in his hand, waiting for the goosebumps to subside and time to flow back in.

Since he didn’t move, you tried to explain it: “see, it’s got a little wheel on the side...”

Abed managed to nod, refocused on the toy and obediently pushed the wheel along. As an outlet, this couldn’t have been more well timed. “I was thinking of buying one of these, but I was worried it might make too much noise.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you beam. “This one is a little noisy, but there’s stealth versions. I could give you a link to the company’s website, if you like.”

“Oh, I know where to buy these,” he said and immediately wanted to kick himself. A completely acceptable and polite white lie and this could have been the moment the two of you traded details. Idiot! He tried to joke it off. “I guess I’m just old school, you know? Tearing up receipts, chewing on pencils...”

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you stimming.”

Abed looked over at you. The implication of what you’d just said left him lost for words again. Had you seen what he had? Did you really watch him that closely? How had you done it so subtly that he’d never noticed?

“What are you nerds talking about?”

Steve had appeared and Abed was forced to accept there was more in the world than you and him and the most important conversation ever. He was leaning on the table, staring down at the two of you. Then he sighed and dragged out a chair. It shouldn’t be possible to make so much noise across carpeted floors, but he worked at it.

Abed quickly reached across your things to put the fidget cube back where he’d found it.

“Hello, Steve,” you said, still smiling.

“So, can we get this over with? Smells like beans in here.”

“Sure. Where do you want to start?”

Abed didn’t like Steve. He really didn’t like the way Steve looked at you - sneering and bored and probably itching to jump on any perceived weakness.

In a way, Abed regretted having put the toy back and almost regretted that you’d left it out in the open to begin with. Why leave yourself vulnerable when you didn’t have to?

He decided to try to take up some space to make up for it. “I made a reading list. If we can find the right books here, we could split the research three ways and compare notes in a few days...”

“This is Greendale. Can’t we just make it up as we go and cite your books when we say something clever? It’s not as if anyone’s gonna check our sources.”

“I don’t know,” you said in a diplomatic tone. “I don’t think Professor Ramirez has been here long enough to give up.”

Abed nodded. “And besides...” he pointed to the wall behind Steve, where a poster stated in glossy Word Art that _‘reading is fun!!!!’._ He wasn’t sure he agreed, but it felt like a mood was threatening to descend.

You weren’t helping. “Why did you pick this class if you’re not interested in the subject?”

“Uh, because I want a degree? I wasn’t expecting to get ganged up on by geeks with nothing better to do than inventing more work for themselves.”

“I don’t want to invent more work, I just want to do the assignment.”

“That’s a great idea! Why don’t you do the assignment?”

You frowned and Abed watched on in horror. He didn’t know how to steer things back into safe waters.

“What, by myself?”

“Yeah, or team up with the stick figure.” He gestured at Abed.

“There’s no need to be rude. I wasn’t trying to start an argument.”

“It’s okay,” Abed cut in. “Group projects are designed to bring out the worst in people. We should break the pattern and be the first team to get through it without driving each other crazy.”

You nodded.

Steve shrugged. ”Yeah, fine. No need to drag it out. Can I see that reading list?”

Abed opened his notebook to the right page and slid it across the table. While Steve was distracted, he shot you a questioning glance but you smiled as if nothing had happened. The terrible, hot weight in his gut seemed to lighten slightly and he flexed his hands. Clenching his fists so long had almost given him a cramp.

Steve flipped the page and sighed with relief that the list didn’t continue. “You can’t seriously expect me to read a third of these. We only have a month to write the essay.”

“Just skim the parts that seem relevant,” Abed replied. “No one reads books properly once they get to college.”

Steve glared at him, in case he was being mocked. “Right. Can I at least get first pick?”

“Yes.” Abed felt sure he spoke for both of you when he tried to get rid of Steve a little quicker.

Steve took a photo of the list and put an x beside a quarter of the titles before pushing the notebook away from him. At least he had the decency to look sheepish when he said “I uh... I could use a copy of you guys’ notes if you have them.”

You sat a little straighter in your chair. “I can do you one better! I get transcripts of all the lectures - if you give me your email address, I can send you a copy.”

This proved too strange for Steve to pass up. “...Why do you get transcripts? I didn’t know we could get transcripts.”

Abed bit down on his tongue and prayed you’d have the sense to do the same. But you seemed only slightly abashed when you explained, “the Dean offered it as an accessibility thing. It’s been really helpful.”

“Oh, great. So you get the whole school to hold your hand because of some bullshit disability while the rest of us are expected to work for the same grade?”

It was like watching a traffic accident, Abed felt just as powerless to stop it.

Somehow, you seemed to keep your cool. “I did just offer to share.”

“What are you gonna do once you graduate? Cuz, I hate to break it to you, this place might be a soft play area but the rest of the world isn’t gonna pull its punches.”

As if you didn’t know. As if you hadn’t been struck a thousand times. Abed looked over at you and he could see it in your eyes, in your posture, in your grimace. No one like you got away unscathed. He wondered now if your ability to blend wasn’t the best proof of all of how badly you’d been hurt and he could see ahead how the argument would go now - because you made it look effortless, someone as idiotic as Steve would never be convinced how much work that took or what it might cost you. Not that he was worth convincing; who’d want him in their corner?

You drew a shaky breath but Abed cut you off. “Shut up, Steve.”

“Excuse you?”

Abed stood up and glared at Steve with cold, controlled anger. “Shut up, and get out.”

“I thought we were gonna ‘break the pattern’, or whatever.”

“No, you seem pretty determined to stick to them, so we will, too. We’ll do the work and you can coast.” Steve brightened up a little at that, but Abed walked around the table and loomed over him. “In exchange, you won’t talk to her like that ever again.”

He didn’t want to overstep, so he glanced over at you. You looked shocked, but not, as far as he could tell, displeased. In fact, you mostly looked small and that made Abed so angry, he couldn’t help himself. “Actually, don’t talk to her at all unless she chooses it.”

Steve scoffed. “Or what, you’ll beat me up?”

“If I have to.”

Steve got up and loomed right back. He wasn’t as tall as Abed, but he was significantly larger and it would’ve been intimidating if Abed hadn’t been beyond caring. “This is ridiculous. You couldn’t take me if I was unconscious.”

“I didn’t say I’d be alone.”

The stand-off lasted another moment or two and Abed was dimly aware they’d gathered quite the audience. Steve noticed it too and broke first. He shook his head and gathered up his things. “Whatever, man. You just agreed to do my work for me, that’s a win in my book.”

Abed stood there, hearing his own pulse rushing in his ears, forcing deep breaths and watching Steve until he was out of sight. Something big had just happened and he had no idea what it was or what it meant. One by one, the other students accepted that the scene had ended and at least pretended to return to their work.

At last, you spoke. “...What was that?”

He slowly sank down into Steve’s chair - a bit of distance between you seemed like a good idea, especially since he had no idea how you might react. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, I was just surprised.”

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

You sounded very, very quiet. “I’m used to it.”

Abed fixed you with a look. “You shouldn’t have to be.” For some reason, he was reminded of Britta. Maybe because he felt like he sounded a little like her... If this was how she felt all the time, her behaviour made a lot more sense.

“I appreciate it, Abed. But this kind of thing happens all the time.”

“Yes, I know.” He wanted to say that it shouldn’t, but talking that way was meaningless. It wasn’t a comfort to be reminded that you suffered for no good reason. “It happens to me, too.”

“I figured as much...”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, smiled and fiddled with your notebook. “No, it... it’s nice that you stood up for me. It doesn’t happen very often.”

Abed drew a breath to tell you, to promise you that he’d do it every time, make sure that no one treated you badly while he was around. Then, just in time, he realised what that would sound like and he stopped himself. It would sound like a confession, because that’s what it would be.


End file.
